Purple Sage, Purple Haze

With apologies to His Royal Highness, Hendrix and the Artist formerly known as Prince, this post celebrates the very purpleness of certain parts of Magic Garden. It's kinda happened by accident and when I pointed this out to my Mum, she said how lovely it was to see just how many different shades there were in the one place. Stupidly, I'd been beating myself up abit for not "considering" my planting scheme, when in truth, there was no plan at all. Mum's call has made me see the beauty in this situation. There's five different shades of purple in this picture, the sage, lavender, chives, catmint and sweetpeas but what I really love is that this shot shows just how much my Hills Hoist garden has grown since my first post. I do need to think of some way to break up the purple haze. I'm feeling blue, simply because spring has revealed Magic Garden's very garish heart and the front yard already has the opposing purple/yellow nexus covered. These questions of colouration remind me that I've been meaning to post about the concept of the "fashionable" in garden design. What happens when your garden is so well established that such notions are irrelevant? And more to the point, is the true nature of gardening beyond such frivolous concerns? Fashion is defined by its seasonality and infers a sense of the replaceable whereas a garden must transcend the 4 seasons and continue to evolve in spite of them. As with any good design, a successful garden will invoke a sense of timelessness, I guess but then what does this really mean? All this and more, I shall discuss in a future post...

In between, I shall be making up a batch of this very delicious Pumpkin, Sage & Ricotta Lasagne. It was the cover recipe from the ABC's delicious magazine from July 2007, so that should give you some indication as to how long I've been perfecting this rather decadent dish. For entertaining the non-vegan of your vegetarian friends, it is an absolute lifesaver and very well received by meat eaters alike. It freezes really well so make 2 batches and freeze one to be popped in the oven at a later date. Serve with a fresh green salad and maybe some crusty bread, if you feel like carb loading. Also, very tasty as leftovers the next day.

To serve 4, you'll need:
1.2kg butternut pumpkin, peeled and cut into 2cm pieces
2 tbs olive oil
1/2 tsp dried chilli flakes*
1 tbs chopped fresh sage, plus 12 leaves to garnish
1/4 tsp freshly grated nutmeg
350g ricotta
1 egg
1 cup grated parmesan, plus extra to serve
8 lasagne sheets
100g unsalted butter
2 tbs chopped walnuts or pinenuts

Preheat the oven to 190 degrees C.

Place pumpkin on a baking tray, drizzle with oil, sprinkle with chilli flakes & season with seas salt & freshly ground pepper. Cover with foil and bake for 25minutes until the pumpkin is tender. Allow to cool slightly then puree in a food processor, with the sage and nutmeg or mash by hand. Set aside.

Combine ricotta, egg & parmesan and season with salt & pepper.

Lightly grease a 24cm square baking pan, lay 2 lasagne sheets and spread with half the pumpkin puree. Then lay another 2 sheets and spread with half the ricotta. Repeat and then sprinkle the final layer of ricotta with the grated parmesan.

Lay a sheet of baking paper over the surface, cover with foil and bake for 35mins. Uncover and bake for a further 15mins or until golden. Stand for 5mins and in the meantime, heat the butter, nuts & sage until the butter begins to foam. Remove from the heat, drizzle over the rested lasagne and finally, artfully scatter with the additional parmesan.

*Please note, I tend to the cavalier when it comes to measuring and in this instance, the dried chilli can really pack a punch once it's mixed with the sage, so be a bit careful unless you're confident you & your guests like it HOT.

Bon Appetit!

John, the Rabbit!

It's been one of those days but somewhere along the way, the divine Miss C and I came across this gorgeous clip by Elizabeth Mitchell...it made me smile, enjoy!

Apologies that the clip is cropped by my template set-up...even if it hadn't been one of those days, I'm not sure I could've fixed it. I'm just not that savy and you still get the general cuteness, I reckon!

Garlic and the Grocer

Traditionally, the first cicada sighting of the season heralds summer's arrival...however 2 days after this beautiful Green Grocer smacked into my arm (with such force, I was looking around for a bird), it was snowing! Crazy spring weather in these here parts but alas, there's no photographic record from me as I was sunning it up in Kilcare. Apart from some massive branches down from the tulip tree, by the time we returned, you wouldn't have known there'd been any freak weather conditions at all.

Funnily enough, my sister and I had been trying to remember all the names for the different types of cicada just the day before. We're talking strictly schoolyard colloquiallism, from the time when it was the height of fashion to arrange a dried shell on your uniform. Green grocers were the most common, followed by the infamous, Dark Prince...I know there were others (rudolph with his nose so bright? a cherry ripe?) but to be honest, I've never seen them and they have become mythological creatures, their names lost in the past.

But I'm hoping the cold snap has an upside. Just before my encounter with the Grocer, I'd planted the lovely cloves you can see above. Depending on where you live, planting should usually be done in the autumn...however, colder regions can also plant in the spring. After Saturday's little episode, surely the mountains count but the Dept. of Primary Industries fact sheet has me worried! Planting this late in the year will probably result in smaller bulbs. C'est la vie, I'll just plant more in the autumn and we can all look forward to my compare & contrast post.

In keeping with companion planting principles, I've placed the cloves between the roses that encircle our standardised cherry. When we first moved in, I planted chives next to a rather sad rose under the Hills Hoist and one season on, both are absolutely thriving. Enough proof for this lady gardener that the relationship is mutually beneficial. Other members of the Alliaceae family include, onions, shallots and leeks, so any of these would be happy enough in your rose beds. However, to have any chance of sucess with a garlic crop, you must buy certified organic as non-organic product is sprayed to increase its shelf life and keep it from sprouting, this renders it infertile. How very appealling!

Firstly, I removed the most papery of the skin, leaving alittle of that closest to the clove. Then, I gave the soil a good turn over. Garlic likes a high level of organic matter and having treated the roses to some blood and bone (which is chockful of nitrogen, phosphorus and calcium) earlier in the month, plus the sugar cane mulch I'd dug in at the same time, I reckon this patch is pretty rich in this respect. I plan to keep feeding the bed with blood and bone until the plants start to set bulbs. Apparently too much nitrogen based product produces bulbs with shorter shelf lives. More of a concern for the commercial operation but still, good to know.

I popped my cloves in at 15cm intervals, 5cm deep then covered my ring between the roses with a light layer of mulch to keep weedy competition at bay. According to the DPI paper, garlic benefits best from light, yet frequent watering. As the shoots brown off or the necks softten, restrain your watering cans as this indicates the bulbs are nearly ready to be harvested and too much water at this time could cause your treasures to rot.

There's not much else to do...except await the autumn and plant more and then wait 'til this time next year so I can test the small bulb prophecy.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYfcb3LAoX4
This is just one of the videos I watched, there are stacks (honestly, what can't you learn on youtube?) but I post this one for its funky lenny kravitz ripoff intro!

This is the first shot of the Ginko's return. Perhaps it's too early to call it triumphant but I gotta say, I'm feeling pretty damn relieved! Down in the glade, a pre-dawn chorus is singing HALLELUJAH! And I'm talking Handel's full-on choral extravaganza - not pissy Jeff Buckley. In the background, you can see yet more rhododendron love; I think it's a very pretty moment in time when blooms are yet to unsheathe and delicate new foliage is just unfurling...this awareness is at the very heart of my gardening love, these tiny progressions truly warm my heart.

Neighbourhood Watch

These massive beauties make me laugh and until Jeff Koons hits town and shapes some of his iconic puppies out of them, my artistic aspirations will have to be satisfied by cake decorating; these particular blooms are the exact shade of Allen's 'Ripe Rasberries.' I almost feel like sending in a suggestion for the Women's Weekly Birthday Cake book! You can tell I'm still reeling from Miss C's birthday extravaganza...

At this time of year, every shade of Rhodo is ubiquitious and yet completely unique. They are seriously showy and have always struck me as azaleas on steroids. In my little bit of research, it seems this is precisely the case both in flower and stature; the main difference is one of size. This shot demonstartes it perfectly - you'll never see an azalea even vaguely comparing to a telegraph pole!

Additionally, most azalea blooms occur individually; that is one flower to one stem, whereas the rhodo's blossoms occur en masse. At Magic Garden, I have one pink specimen that is so heavy with flower, half the plant has bowed under the weight and there's a gaping hole between top and bottom. This has provided a neat window to an azalea behind but it does make me wonder about whether a rather severe prune is needed. Thanks to the good folk at wikipedia*, I've also learnt that whilst the word Rhododendron comes from the Greek: ροδον, rodon, meaning "rose", and δενδρον, dendron, meaning "tree", it cannot lay claim to its own alcoholic beverage. Next time you're in Korea, keep an eye out for Tugyonju, "azalea grape wine," and please, do post your thoughts.


As mentioned in my last post, the crab apple will always have a special place in my heart. I think they are just delightful, a tart intrusion upon the landscape and a more robust blossom than most. I am amazed that Magic Garden hasn't one hidden away and it saddens me greatly. Plus, OMG is so very well established, it's not like I can just pop one in willy-nilly - there's literally no room and even if I was to shoehorn one in, it wouldn't be fair as there's so much competition, it wouldn't thrive...which would disappoint me doubly. Until I can work out a more equitable arrangement for all, I am taking solance in my lovely neighbour's delighful specimen.



Positioned in the front yard, it is hidden behind a rather high hedge and you really only notice it from the side gate. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that its neighbour is this very fetching Magnolia, another favourite whose close proximity I had been lamenting. I love its languid branches and between these two beautifully compatible bedfellows, the canopy they create is a haven of cool shade. All that's missing is a hammock, a good book and me...maybe a houseboy on hand with a fresh pitcher of homemade lemonade.

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rhododendron

Spring has sprung?

Confession time: the first of September came and went and I missed it! I am quite happy to blame baby brain because I'd planned a celebratory 'Spring is sprung' post and I got to last Friday and realised I'd missed the boat. That's what happens when you're 30 weeks pregnant. I keep telling myself, just because the calendar says it is so, doesn't mean the weather is listening and up here mountainside, we are definitely a good month behind our warmer coastal cousins.* So despite the jaw dropping display of blossoms that are just everywhere, I am no closer to returning to my most beloved barefoot summer self. A painted toenail self, buoyant on warm waves of salt water and summer sun. A bikini figures prominently (this is how we know this is fantasy land!) and daylight savings is as permanent a fixture as my healthy, glowing tan.** What I have worked out is that now that I know the calendar has turned, mentally my brain is telling me it should be getting warmer...with the exception of last Wednesday, it's just NOT!

This particular day of spring's beginning is the divine Miss C's birthday. She is three and oh so fabulous, oh so hilarious. Amazing that between Husbando and I, we have managed to keep this tiny creature alive, that she's articulate and thriving, funny and kind. The next year is going to be massive for her, she's off to pre-school and perhaps more importantly, about to become a big sister. After her party today, she was a little miffed that no-one had brought her Pooh Bear a present, as it is his birthday too... who can blame them, it hadn't occurred to me either! But I think it's a telling aspect of her personality, she didn't let it get in the way of her opening her own presents and she didn't bring it up until we were getting ready to have a much needed nap. I like to think this reveals her good manners. When I suggested she'd just have to share her gifts with Pooh Bear, she took it in her stride and he wore her new tiara out for dinner tonight. So even if he is inanimate, she knows how to share and I'm taking this as proof Husbando and I are doing something right.

In the weeks before I gave birth to Miss C, our Magnolia had come into flower and much like myself, the Cherry Blossom was ripening. Up on Armstrong St, the neighbourhood's best Crab Apple, (malus floribunda, I can, in fact remember some things) was a confection of pink and white, the tartness of new green leaves slowly upstaging the sweet. It's one of my favourite things, the dominant, showy blossom giving way to the fresh leaves. Reminds me of a very sickly lolly, the toffee apple and I don't mean a real apple dipped in toffee!*** Part of the bittersweet beauty of life can be marked by memories of what plants are in bloom. The spring of my childhood was always synonymous with the massed Azaleas that spelt out Lane Cove on Epping Rd, until one of my Mum's oldest friends told me she couldn't see them without remembering when her father died. Not many remain now because of the Gore Hill freeway and the bus interchange. And the Lane Cove tunnel means that unless, you're driving to Lane Cove specifically, you'd not have reason to pass and recall the fact that once upon a time, during a spring time traffic jam, that particular part of the world was that little more lovely and that someone very much loved was lost but not forgotten.

*Please forgive, sometimes I can get a tad city mouse, country mouse...I keep it in check most of the time because I really do enjoy the best of both worlds.

**Not that I in any way advocate solariums or unsafe tanning practise. However, I have become a little more aware of Vitamin D of late, in terms of the important role it plays in helping the body process calcium. No matter how sunny and inviting the day might seem, living where I do, going out with bare skin exposed for 10 minutes in 10 degree C temperatures is going to feel like lunacy! Confession number two, I guess, I do fantasise about getting tan.

***Which, for the record, I've always found rather overrated. Mostly, I guess you usually find them at fetes or fruit and veg shops and the apples used always seem to be horrid and floury. Makes me wonder if a little tart bonanza or sundowner might shift the balance...note to self, get Mum to teach me the art of toffee making.

Blossom Magic

Here's the promised porn...you won't see me writing that too often!

At the top is Coryopsis Spicata, aka Contorted Witchhazel. After enjoying the twisted limbs so exposed throughout the winter, I am just entranced by its chandelier-like catkins. Down below is the blossom tree mentioned in my last post. I know it isn't a cherry and the blossoms aren't the same as the apricot tree close by but according to some, it is the finest blossom tree in the neighbourhood and that's good enough for me. I wish I'd thought to take a shot a day as the blossoms began to emerge and then I could've cut together a cute little psuedo time lapse piece...how totally tech would that have been! Coulda, woulda, shoulda, well it'll have to wait 'til next year. I just love the pink against the blue sky and with the winds we've been experiencing, it's a little like confetti at an Indian wedding.